


Stripped down to the bones

by ohshitdestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell, Hurt, M/M, Sexual Violence, Sub!Dean, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohshitdestiel/pseuds/ohshitdestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being naked and tied down to a bed has never been on the list of things Dean has been desperate to try. Not until Alastair forced this experience onto him for the first time that is. Giving in to his tormentor’s offer to get out of his chains if he tortures other souls has not stopped the torturing of Dean himself. It has just shifted it to a more psychological level and Dean knows that he cannot take it. He is broken every time Alastair releases him from their sessions and the tragedy of this whole situation is that Dean likes it. He fucking likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stripped down to the bones

Being naked and tied down to a bed has never been on the list of things Dean has been desperate to try. Not until Alastair forced this experience onto him for the first time that is. Giving in to his tormentor’s offer to get out of his chains if he tortures other souls has not stopped the torturing of Dean himself. It has just shifted it to a more psychological level and Dean knows that he cannot take it. He is broken every time Alastair releases him from their sessions and the tragedy of this whole situation is that Dean likes it. He fucking likes it.   
Dean likes being pinned to the headrest with knives rammed through his palms, loves the pain pumping adrenaline through his blood. He likes the way the chain wrapped around his neck is making it almost impossible for him to breathe, but only almost. He likes Alastair sitting next to him on the bed, smiling down at him with a mischievous smirk the image even burned into Dean's vision when he closes his eyes. He likes how the idea of Alastair touching him both repels and attracts him at the same time. He likes how the first word dripping from the other man's lips has him already squirming in anticipating arousal.  
He knows that there is no way he can justify giving in to this to himself but right now he cannot care about this. What Alastair does to him is punishment, salvation and torture mixed up in a poisonous cocktail of emotions that floods Dean's system as Alastair opens his mouth for the first time today.  
"Dean, Dean, Dean" He begins and shakes his head, his voice is deep, husky and harsh like sandpaper but it is almost music to Dean's ears. He is not alone, not anymore. Alastair is here with him and no matter what he is going to do to him, this will never change. "I watched you today. Such a good little boy. It's like you've been born for torturing, so eager to impress me, aren't you?" He sways his head like a snake and although Dean does not dare to move his head and look at him, he can still see him. This is hell and world's rules of perception do not have any significance here. The words have Dean arching up from the bed half in pain at what he has done and half in pure need.  
"Say it" Alastair demands and has Dean already moaning.  
"I am torturing souls to impress you" Dean presses out, desperately fighting his body that tells him not to speak at all due to the lack of air in his lungs. It feels so good, pretending to have a real reason to do this. Just that he is not pretending. He knows that deep down buried inside of himself it is true because he has made it true.   
Alastair leans into him, whispers a growled "Good boy" in his ear without touching him. His breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of Dean's ear and neck and it is the first time he becomes aware of how painfully hard he is already. It is pathetic and embarrassing but when Alastair lets his gaze wander over Dean's body and nods in approval, it is somehow okay to be that vulnerable. Somewhere at the back of his mind he know that he is going to hate himself for this later but right now he just needs it, needs an opportunity to let go and be used, be controlled by someone else.   
"You are so obedient" Alastair continues, his voice close to Dean's ear again. "Such a good little bitch." Dean arches up again, searches for friction against his burning hot skin that the air cannot give him. He whines. "You need me, Dean. You will always come crawling to me after your day and I will be here. You tell yourself you are still strong but you are already broken." Dean realized he is crying and shuts his eyes close. He is squirming and with every bit of pressure he puts onto his hands, sharp pain shoots to his body and makes him arch up, again and again and again. And then Alastair is kneeling over him, straddles his thighs and the feeling of rough jeans-fabric against his cock makes Dean groan, low and guttural. He sounds more like an animal than a man and he is not even ashamed for it. Alastair is controlled, his smirk still one of a predator while Dean falls apart underneath him, breaks into a million pieces and loses himself. He is nothing more than prey to Alastair but to him Alastair is everything. Then Alastair punches him in the face. It is a hit with the back of his fisted hands and Alastair is strong and the knuckles of his hand pierce into Dean's skin and collide painfully with his cheekbone. It feels like it is broken and Dean tries to back away from the next blow. He cries out as the pain shooting through his body reminds him again in which way he is held in place. The demon over him thrusts his pelvis against Dean's cock and it is too much. Dean cannot take this, not any second longer. He needs to get off and then get away from here but Alastair does not let him. He smirks again as his eyes go black.  
"Look at me" He commands but Dean cannot obey. "I said look at me, bitch" Alastair snarls and hits Dean again.   
"Yes, yes...god, fuck" Dean murmurs under his panting breath and forces his eyes open. He looks up at Alastair and fear creeps through his veins. Alastair grabs his head with both hands and shoves it against the wooden headrest. Dean groans and sees stars. His body goes compliant under Alastair and the last thing he hears before he falls into the demon's hard thrusts with his hips is a whispered. "Good boy."  
After that, everything that happens is a big blur to Dean. He cannot separate pain and lust anymore, they are mixed into a drug that gets Dean too high to do anything but moan, groan and cry out over and over again.   
Alastair does not get off on this, the satisfaction he draws out of abusing Dean is not sexual. Dean cannot reflect on this, though. Alastair's moves against his cock are painful and cruel and Dean has got no idea how they are pushing him farther towards the edge but they do. His whole body aches and Dean gives in. Pain and lust overrun him and he has to feel nothing else anymore. No shame, no guilt and it is so fucking good.   
Before Dean knows what is happening, he is coming, his whole body tries to lift up from the bed and into Alastair's body but all Dean does is hurt himself again. He cries out, it is a high and unnatural sound. His mind is blank and no matter how absurd that sounds, Dean feels at peace. He comes down slowly, whispering "Thank you, thank you, thank you" for the next two minutes. He is going to hate himself for that later, he is going to puke his guts out and feel worse about what has just happened than he feels about torturing all those souls in the pit. However, being with Alastair like this will still be everything he needs, everything he craves for, and this is the true punishment. This is Alastair’s actual motive to give Dean what he needs the most. He makes Dean dependent on him and there is no torture more powerful and more destructive than this.


End file.
